A Trap Might Work
by Mellybean23
Summary: "I knew not to trust the Game Makers. The rule change was for those stupid Star Crossed Lovers of District Twelve, not the killers of District Two. And the Capitol was just the same." An AU Clato three-shot about how winning isn't always the right goal.
1. Chapter 1

I **know that I'm in the middle of my Gale/ Madge story (one of my favorite Hunger Games pairings) but I love love love love LOVE Clato (Clove/ Cato) as well. They're kind of tied for my favorite pairings and I hated how they took out all of the totally implied Clato in the movie! AURGH!**

**No amount of exclamation marks can express my ANGER! Or at least annoyance.**

**But Isabelle Fuhrman was AMAZING as Clove. AMAZING, I tell you! In all capital letters and with seven exclamation marks.**

**Anyways, enjoy the first part of this two-shot.**

* * *

><p>"CATO!"<p>

The name slips out before I can stop it and I mentally curse myself over crying out for help like a stupid little weakling would. I'm a career and we careers are anything but week. Despite this, though, I can't manage to suppress the wave of terror that washes over me as Thresh continues to shake me. Cato's name slips from my lips again as I see Thresh bend over for a rock that he has spotted.

"CATO!" I scream frantically.

"CATO!"

The tears are threatening to spill from my eyes because I know what he's going to do to me. He's going to smash my head in, almost as if I was a bug in the summer time, and it's all because of that little girl that Marvel must have killed (unless, of course, Avaline had finally made a move).

"I didn't kill her!" I gasp, for some unfathomable reason. Next thing you know, I'll be begging for mercy, but, instead, it slips from my lips again: that one, weak word.

"CATO!"

I can see the rock and then I hear it. It's desperate- almost pleading, really.

"CLOVE!"

And for one moment- just one short little moment- Thresh hesitates as he raises the rock above my head. Whether it is because of me or because he has heard Cato's loud, uneven footsteps and shout of fear, I will never know, but it's just long enough for Cato's spear to pierce his shoulder.

Thresh's grip loosens and the stone must hit my head because all that I can see is a wave of black, then swirling patterns of purples, blues, and reds. I can hear Cato, Thresh, and District Twelve all screaming and yelling and the clash of weapons as the three of them fight. I hear the footstep of someone running and I try to move and go after them, but I'm still on the ground. A canon blasts and I involuntarily shut my eyes as I feel blood splatter around me.

"Clove? Clove? Can you hear me? It's Cato, your District Partner! We can both still win, Clove! Please, stay with me, please!" I hear Cato yell- no, wait, beg. Cato is begging me- not to kill him quickly as I had always expected- but for my life. He's begging me to stay alive.

Stranger things have probably happened, but my eyes are still shut and Cato's frantic voice is making it hard for me to think coherently.

"Which one?" I manage to articulate, my voice sounding hoarse and choked.

"Clove? Are you alright?" Cato asks.

"Just tell me who you killed already, Cato!" I snap.

"Oh, right, I killed Thresh. Twelve got away, into the woods. She left her back pack, though, so lover boy won't be getting his medicine…" Cato trails off, and I hear him unzip the back pack to examine what District Twelve was sent- Medicine.

Something clicks in my head and I think about how stupid Cato can be.

"Put it on my head, where he got me," I choke and I hear the tube being opened and then I feel Cato's strong hands rubbing my skull near my hairline.

I crack my eyes open and my vision is completely blurred, but I can see a look of concentration on Cato's handsome face.

"My vision… it's all blurred," I mumble.

Cato looks at me (I think), but I'm sure that I feel him squeeze my hand as a way to reassure me of something, but I don't know what.

"Maybe Lyme will send you glasses," he says and I think he's trying to joke, but he just sounds like he's trying to convince himself something.

I want to stab him.

He shouldn't be doing this for me, he should be following Twelve back to the lair of "love" or off in the woods hunting down sneaky little Avaline, from District Five. I am his _enemy_, not his friend (and in most Games, I wouldn't even be his ally at this point).

My vision is slowly improving, though everything past Cato's face seems to be a swirl of colors and I almost think that there are tears on his face, but we are careers, and careers _don't_ cry. Careers don't care about the rest of the career pack unless there's a good reason, like a bear or another tribute. But we careers don't care like Cato seems to.

I feel him squeeze my hand and then I realize that I'm crying too.

I internally curse myself for showing weakness to an enemy and to the rest of Panem.

"Can you see anything yet, Clove?" Cato asks softly.

"Yes, let's go," I say roughly, not liking the tone of his voice because it doesn't sound hard and tough or even angry; it sounds concerned and caring, almost as if he were talking to a loved one, and it _terrifies_ me because the only person that I can remember speaking to me like this is my grandmother and my oldest brother (dad had probably been like Julius before mom had died, but I couldn't remember that time very well).

"Are you sure?" Cato whispers in my ear as he helps me up.

"Yes," I hiss, not telling him that my world is still a blur of bright colors and buzzing in my ears.

I wrench my hands from his and bend to grab my knives, but the world still swirls around me when I bend over and I wind up strewn across Thresh's massive body. I close my eyes and try not to scream because he was so close to killing me. Cato kneels to help me up, but I wobble back to my feet on my own, rejecting his silent offer. There's only one thing that scares me more than Thresh, and it's Cato (but mostly just the way that he's acting at the moment).

"I'm fine. I just need to sit down a bit; maybe sleep it off. How about you go get food and water and anything left that we can scavenge and I'll take a nap," I suggest.

Cato doesn't look too happy, but ends up setting me down on a fallen tree outside of our tent. I close my eyes, but keep my ears open and alert for any signs of danger. It's mostly in case of District Five's tribute, Avaline, because Lover Boy is in no shape to walk, Thresh is dead, and Fire Girl is probably too busy sobbing over Lover Boy's soon to be dead body.

A canon fires off in the distance, and, though I wish dearly that it was Avaline, I know that it's probably for Lover Boy. I saw where Cato cut him and it was an absolute miracle that he had managed to make it this far into the Games after that wound.

I hear someone stumbling through the woods and I grab my knife and squint my eyes open, only to find a frantic looking Cato. Well, he actually still looks very composed (especially for the Hunger Games) but I can see the worry in his eye. He's really starting to creep me out.

"Clove, are you okay? I heard the canon…" Cato trails off as he reaches the clearing where our camp has been set up.

"I'm fine, Cato!" I spit from between my clenched teeth. I don't know what this boy's angle is, but it's driving me crazy.

Through my blurred vision, I can see an odd look cross his face, but it only stays for a brief moment so I can't be sure what I'm seeing. It looks almost like hurt or pain, though. Cato looks as if he feels rejected, but I immediately blame my vision, because he's Cato and these are the Hunger Games. Even with the "Rule Change" I don't trust the Game Makers at all. It's painfully obvious that only one Victor will ever be allowed and that they made the rule for more drama between the "Star Crossed Lovers" of District Twelve that had been unlucky enough to have been selected for the same Hunger Games. The rule change was never meant for us.

"Look, Clove, I just want to make sure that you're alright. I figured that you'd appreciate it, what with the rule change and all," Cato mutters sheepishly.

I'm unsure of what to say, but I mutter a quick "Thank you" and I can feel my cheeks involuntarily turn red. I hate myself.

"Yeah, you're welcome," He mutters and it has about as much sincerity as a dead fish. Perfect for me, though, because that means that everything is going back to normal even though these particular Games have been anything but. "Who do you think the canon was for?" Cato continues as if we don't both know.

"Lover Boy, I mean seriously, who else? Fire Girl's cut didn't look too deep and unless you or Thresh got her," I begin.

"Lower calf and left should," Cato interjects.

"Right," I agree, knowing that neither wound he inflicted will be immediately life threatening. "Like I was saying, though, unless she has some unknown wound or if Avaline met up with her on the way back to where ever it is that District Twelve has been hiding out for the few days, it's got to be Lover Boy who's finally kicked it. You cut him right along the artery," I say.

"So we're assuming that it's Lover Boy until nightfall when we'll know for sure?" Cato asks.

I nod, but I can't shake this feeling that something is not right. I just feel as if there's something up that Cato and I are missing out on.

The Rule change.

"I just don't understand why they haven't taken back the rule change yet," I mention. Cato's head snaps up through the slightly less blurry swirl of colors.

"I don't really mind it, Clove. I mean, with this rule change, both of us get to go home. Both of us get to be Victors with those huge mansions and all of the money that we could ever possibly want," Cato defends, and I agree with everything he's saying. However, I still can't fight the feeling that the Game makers have more tricks up their sleeves.

"I call dibs on the house next to Lyme's. You can have the house between Brutus and Enobaria's places," I smirk, knowing that Enobaria is the one person who really truly scares the shit out of Cato. She's not our mentor, but she had dinner with us one night because she was in town. That was the most silent I have ever seen Cato.

"If we win, every house will be filled. I wonder what they'll do then." Cato wonders.

"You mean when we win," I just said we and I can't help but feel better because it's not just me.

It's Cato and I.

We will win this thing.

We are a team, or at least we can be a team.

"Cato, thanks for being there," I mumble, and I feel my cheeks turn red again.

"We're a team, Clove. We'll make history as the first two tributes to ever win the Hunger Games together," Cato shrugs as if this is a normal, every day experience.

We sit there in an incredibly awkward silence (though I feel like Cato has a lot to say but is too nervous or embarrassed to say anything in front of the cameras) that continues for about ten minutes, when the anthem of Panem begins to play.

"I'll tell you who it is," Cato whispers to me.

I nod because I still can't see very well.

"It's Lover Boy, Clove. You were right," Cato says as the light from the sky dims and eventually disappears.

"That just means two healthy tributes left to kill, you know," I mention.

He looks like he's going to make some witty retort, when we hear it. It's a thumping of many feet and a scream of terror and pain.

_Mutts_.

We take off into the forest towards the cornucopia as fast as we can, knowing that whatever is chasing us must be what the Game makers decided to use as the way to finally draw the last four tributes together seeing as the Feast only resulted in one (or maybe two, if you count Lover Boy's indirect demise) death and not all that much excitement compared to previous years.

Cato's grip on my hand feels as if it's going to crush it, but, strangely, I don't really mind all that much. Maybe it's the adrenaline rushing through my body or maybe it's the fact that I know he's guiding me to (hopefully) safety or maybe it's something else, but I'm racing along side him as quickly as I can.

"Jump, Clove," Cato gasps and I can feel the presence of the cornucopia in front of me. I crouch and leap as high as I can as Cato shoves me up. I blindly stick my hand out and wrench him up as far as I can manage. Through the blurs in my vision, I can make out a flash of orangey red off in the distance, but it is soon consumed by a moving entity of darkness and a canon blasts for a fallen tribute that I assume must be Avaline.

"Oh my God," Cato murmurs as I hear the sounds of snarling and claws getting closer.

"What?" I hiss in his ear, cowering close to him.

"AUGH!"

It's not Cato, it's Fire Girl, I realize after my body stiffens out of reflex.

"Cato, tell me what it is," I hiss.

"You don't want to know, Clove," he says and I hear the faint trace of horror in his voice that makes me start to lose it. If this is scary for Cato, then I'm glad that I don't have to watch this.

The canon blasts and the mutts retreat because I can't hear them anymore and Cato is pulling me down from the cornucopia. But I don't really care about all of that, because I know for sure that something isn't right.

Claudius Templesmith should be announcing our victory.

There is only the sound of Cato's deep breathing.

"_Attention to our remaining tributes! Congratulations on making it to the final two. Unfortunately after much research and consideration, the previous statement that two tributes could win the Hunger Games together has been revoked. Only one victor will be crowned. Thank you, and may the odds be ever in your favor_."

I start to back away from Cato, but it's pretty hard to do when you can barely see. He grabs my hands and envelopes me into his chest.

"I'm not going to hurt you, Clove," he whispers.

"Get away from me, Cato!" I scream, pushing him away. "Killing is all that we know how to do. One of us has to win this! Only one of us can win it, Cato!" my voice is cracking, but I don't care. I feel like that girl, Annie Cresta, must have felt all those years ago: crazy.

"Shut up, Clove, and let me think, will you?" He snaps.

I'm crying hysterically by now, because it's all just so plain _stupid_. Why do we have these _stupid_ games? Why do I have these _stupid_, crazy, messed up feelings for Cato that are preventing me from just killing him and being finished with this? Why is everything so damn _stupid_!

"Clove, I'm seriously trying to think here!" Cato snaps.

"You couldn't think your way out of a paper bag! I just want to die, so can't you just kill me already?" I sob hysterically. " Why won't you just kill me already and win? Isn't that the point, to win and be this huge, stupid victor? Isn't that what everyone wants?" I scream.

"I won't do it! I won't do it, Clove, I promise," Cato is yelling.

He hands me a knife and puts my hand to my chest right where my heart is.

"Together?" he whispers, and I can see through my tear stained and blurred vision that his sword is at the exact same place.

I nod.

"_Stop, stop! There will be two victors, after all! May I present Cato and Clove, of District Two, Panem_!"

I'm still driving the knife into my heart when Cato wrenches it away and nearly breaks every single one of my ribs with his rough embrace.

* * *

><p><strong>That wasn't too terribly awful :)<strong>

**Anyways, I hope that you enjoyed the lovely first part of this two-shot and that you take a minute to leave a reiview.**

**Stay tuned for part 2 (up in the next week or so).**


	2. Chapter 2

**I did some weird and complex math to determine how many victors each District would have. Twelve was easy- 2. In the end, I decided that the career Districts would each have about ten victors because the average would be about 6 victors a district, with two left over from that plus four from District Twelve only having two victors (Haymitch and unknown). Those left over six Victors give One, Two, and Four an approximant eight victors, plus Districts like Three, Eleven, Nine, etc., probably don't have as many Victors as better prepared, non career Districts like Seven or maybe even Ten (lumber yards and livestock). Ironically, I had a lot of statistics homework that I could have been doing.**

**Also, I named Cato's brother Eddie as in Oedipus (even though he's Greek), not as in Ed, Edd, and Eddy. **

**Anyways, I hope you enjoyed my (TWO) pointless rants and enjoy this new chapter because this story is officially going to become a THREE part story arc.**

* * *

><p>The Capitol doctors fixed my vision before I woke up in the Training Center, so when we finally reach the safety of the Justice Building, the first thing I see is my dear old grandmother. I fall into Grammy's outstretched arms and I feel like a little girl again. I've missed her so terribly much and I relax into her embrace. Here, in the privacy of the Justice Building, I can show her how happy I am to be home alive and in one piece. There aren't any cameras here to take advantage of my soft spot or to inform President Snow about who my real family is. It's just Lyme, my Grammy, and Cato's two brothers, sister, and mom who are here to welcome us home.<p>

"Where's Julius?" I murmur into her old, faded, purple cardigan.

"Getting the rest of the furniture set up. We'll be living next to your mentor, Lyme," Grammy tells me.

Cato, who has been talking and laughing with his brothers and sister and mom as if nothing has happened, suddenly stops talking and looks a bit nervous. He must realize that his new house will be next to Enobaria's house. I don't blame him for not being thrilled at the new living arrangements because Enobaria terrifies me as well and Brutus is too intense to really enjoy.

"Now, don't you worry, Cato. We'll have you over for dinner plenty and we will only be one house over from yours," Grammy reassures him as the other fair haired boy laughs and punches Cato in the shoulder when his cheeks turn red.

"Do you really want to live next to Enobaria, Eddie?" Cato hisses, and his brothers both shut up. His younger sister looks like she's going to cry at this news.

Cato's mom flurries on over, though, and she and Grammy begin the talks over dinner plans and what talents we should take up and all sorts of other things while Cato and I scoot closer together, both feeling equally awkward about our families and their behavior.

"Have fun living next to Enobaria," I smirk. Cato grimaces.

"I can't believe that's the only house left in Victor's Village," he groans.

"I can. Especially after watching Enobaria rip out that District Four tribute's vocal chords with her teeth during the final fight," I say.

"Look, Clove, if you ever need anything…" Cato says.

"I'll be fine, Cato," I snap, and for a brief second, I convince myself. But I can still hear my screams echoing off of the walls of my room in the Capitol when I wake up.

* * *

><p>"Clove," Julius sighs as he strokes my hair. We're sitting on the brand new couch in the brand new living room of our brand new home in the Victor's Village. There was an "accident" at the quarry where my dad worked after Cato and I won, so the house will only serve as a home for three: Me, Julius, and Grammy.<p>

"I missed you too, Julius," I whisper into his chest. I'm not lying. He's the one person who I was really scared that I would never see again.

"You two ought to go to bed, soon," Grammy chides us. I look at the clock only to see that it's barely nine thirty. But I go upstairs anyways because it's Grammy and she's the sort of person that you just don't argue with and the day has been far too long for my liking.

I crawl between the sheets only to wake up in the middle of the night from the sound of muffled screams. I lay in bed gasping for a moment before I realize that the screams were my own, muffled by the pillow because I always sleep face down. For the first time in my life, I'm thankful that I have never been able to remember my dreams.

I lay on my back, gasping for breath, and I swear that I can hear screams coming from the house next to mine, but Cato would never scream in his sleep, would he? I push the very idea of Cato showing (or having) weakness from my mind. He's a trained killer, just like I am.

Or, at least he's just like I _should_ be.

* * *

><p>District One gives the two of us the nice, respectful applause that we were expecting. Marvel's family looks a little wary at our presence, but Glimmer's family looks a bit angry. After all, we could have saved her from the tracker jackers, but we didn't. We just left her there to die. But they're a career District and they knew that we would never turn back for their tributes- even if we were allies from before the start of the Games. So we stand on the stage and listen to them half heartedly shout our names, secretly wishing that one of their own was standing there instead.<p>

District Twelve just looks angry, and I can't say that I blame them, no matter how much I hated Fire Girl and Lover Boy. District Twelve, the laughing stock of all of Panem, actually had a shot at winning, this year. They actually had a shot at winning the games for the first time in more than twenty years. Hell, they could have even had two tributes come home, almost as a form of compensation for Haymitch Abernathy's inability to properly mentor. So I get it, I understand why they glare and hatefully shout our names- wishing death upon us as we calmly mount the stage and accept our medals. I get why one Fire Girl's supposed "cousins" shouts out against us and why people applaud him for it. But all I want to do is just go home and suffer my nightmares in peace.

District Eleven is almost as bad as District Twelve, except for the small fact that their Peacekeepers are far more experienced in the area of crowd control and so no one manages to shout out against our victory. However, most of the crowd looks as if they would like to do far worse to us. After all, Cato killed Thresh and I taunted Fire Girl about Rue.

District Nine and District Ten both glare at us with malice for their shared casualties of the Career Pack. But it's much easier to ignore their glares because none of their tributes ever really stood a fighting chance and we all knew it.

District Eight looks strangely happy to see us. I don't get it, especially because we killed both of their tributes with reckless abandon- almost as if it were some sort of sport to us. But they cheer for the two of us like no other so far District has and Lyme looks strangely pleased by it. I wish I could figure out why, but by the time I get her alone, we're racing along to District Seven and I'm more worried about how we will be welcomed there.

Thankfully, in Districts Seven, Six, and even Five, we run into essentially no trouble. Sure, the people there aren't exactly thrilled seeing as we killed off a majority of their tributes, but there isn't the anger of District Eleven or Twelve in their calls and there's not the strange cheering that we encountered back in District Eight that still worries me, for some reason.

District Four, another Career District despite the fact that their training is now where near the intensity or ability that a child would receive in either District Two or One, is strangely happy to see us, just like District Eight. Finnick Odair and Maggie Marinus (whom Lyme calls Mags) shake our hands and even congratulate us on our victory when we arrive. All of the other victors have sent us glares or have been too far gone to acknowledge our presence beyond what is required. But Mags and Finnick seem strangely excited. I don't like it.

Beetee and the rest of District three act in a similar manner to Districts Four and Eight. Thankfully for us, Beetee- with his small, pale, and twitchy frame and thick wire glasses- is far less intimidating than the famous Finnick Odair and so I regain the ability to speak properly when he grasps my hand. He glares at Cato a bit too much, until I remember Mic and how quickly Cato snapped his neck after all the supplies were destroyed by Fire Girl.

Beetee and Lyme also spend a lot of time whispering together at dinner, just as she did with Johanna Mason in District Seven, Finnick and Mags in Four, Cecilia and Woof in Eight, and even drunk, old Haymitch in Twelve.

I still don't like it, but I have bigger things to worry about than who Lyme, my mentor, is associating with. Besides, Brutus just says that Lyme has the uncanny ability to make friends with just about anyone no matter their District.

I just try to ignore the nagging in my heart as we approach the Capitol.

* * *

><p>I wake up in a cold sweat in the loft bedroom that was mine during the preparation time for the Seventy Fourth Hunger Games. After I calm down from my nightmare that I try to remember, I still realize that I can hear noise coming from across the hall: Cato's room.<p>

I slip out of bed, throw on my bathrobe, and scurry across the hall to his dark room. I crack open the door ever so slightly and creep inside, trying not to wake Brutus, Lyme, Cato, or any of the Capitol attendants that might be around.

"Clove? Is that you?" Cato's voice cuts through the darkness and as my eyes adjust, I can see that he's sitting in his bed; the sheets twisted around his body.

"No, it's Enobaria," I roll my eyes as I make the sarcastic reply, but he still tenses for just a second before he realizes that it really is me. I can't say that I blame him, though. I wouldn't want to be woken in the middle of the night by Enobaria either.

"Are you okay, Clove?" he asks, his voice surprisingly soft and tender considering the fact that I've not only woken him up at two thirty in the morning, but also pretended to be Enobaria, the one person that really truly scares him.

"Are _you_ okay, Cato? I could hear you across the hall and through two shut doors," I counter back. He looks a little surprised at this and though I did come over because I was scared, he looks worse. I hadn't really noticed, but there are dark circle around his eyes that I can see even in the night.

"That's must be why mom told Plato and Oedipus to go invest in some sound proofing materials after I got home," Cato sighs.

"And why Julia keeps asking to spend the night with Lyme or I," I add, recounting the way that she's always showing up at the door demanding to go shopping with me then staying for dinner and offering to have a 'girls night'. Next time she asks, I'll just tell her she can use the spare bedroom instead of glaring at her and then Grammy when she insists on letting her stay so that I can 'socialize'.

"Yeah, she complains about me keeping her up the most to mom, I think," Cato sighs.

"I just wake up frozen, Cato," I shudder, thinking about the nameless terror that follows me even after my dreams are over and forgotten. Cato wraps his arm around me and I feel myself subconsciously leaning into his warm embrace despite how much I don't want to show my weakness- especially to Cato, who was my enemy not that long ago.

"It's okay, Clove," he whispers as I fall into a deep, peaceful comfort for the first time in months. "I'm here for you."

I want to tell him how stupid he's being, how he's worse than Lover Boy, but before I can even begin to formulate the proper words, I'm fast asleep in his arms; my face pressed into his warm chest and my hands gripping his undershirt tightly.

* * *

><p>I wake up unable to breath, but this time it's not just because of the nightmare that I can't remember, but also because of the fact that Cato is crushing me into his chest as tightly as possible. I wiggle around a bit, trying to break free of his grasp, but I eventually relax into his arms. It's warm and I feel much safer in his arms than I did alone in my bed. I rest my head on his shoulder and gaze at his face. Cato looks a lot younger than almost eighteen. He looks younger than I am at just barely sixteen- he looks maybe fourteen or fifteen, at the very oldest.<p>

I close my eyes again only to be awakened, what feels like seconds later but is probably about an hour later, by Lyme banging on the door.

"Get up, Cato. We've got a lot to do today," Lyme calls through the door. I hear her pound her fists on my door a few seconds later then leave for breakfast in the Dining Room with Brutus, our stylists and prep teams, and our escort Othello.

Cato's eyes flutter open and I find that I am unable to move from my spot in his arms no matter how much I want to. His dark blue eyes are so intense as they bore into my own dark green ones that I am rendered unable to speak or move. All I can do is stare back at him.

"Cato, I'm serious! Get out of bed, or I'll get Brutus in there to roll you out of bed himself," Lyme calls.

Cato's head snaps up as he calls back:

"I'm up, I'm up, okay? Just give me a minute and go yell at Clove," he smirks at me and I blush when I give his arm a small slap of annoyance.

"Do you want me to go call Enobaria? She is here on business, you know," I can hear the grin that Lyme must be wearing through the door, but Cato still swings his feet out of bed and rushes to the bathroom to turn on the shower.

"Hear that? I'm about to get in!" he yells.

"I don't believe it for a second, Cato, but at least you're not still in bed, like Clove probably is," Lyme laughs. I hear her walk back towards the dining room and I move towards the door and prepare to race across to my room without getting caught.

"You're so obviously her favorite, you know," Cato says, and he starts to grin. It looks real- not like the typical, arrogant smirk that he wore during the Games or when we were training. It doesn't look forced either, like during our post Games interviews. It scares me, just like everything has been doing lately.

"I'll see you at breakfast, Cato," I whisper as I slip out the door and back to my own room. Lyme sees me as she walks to breakfast from her room, but she doesn't say anything at the time and she never brings it up again, so I pretend like it never happened.

* * *

><p>We dance all night at the Victory Party and eat as much of the plethora of delicious foods that are presented to us. They're nothing like the stale ration bread, plain ham slices, and flavorless corn meal paste that make up nearly every meal back in District Two. They're rich and full of flavors that I had only ever come close to tasting at the occasional New Year's or Harvest buffet. That's the thing about District Two- everyone gets enough to eat, but it's all standard and flavorless.<p>

People take pictures with us, Cesar laughs as he interviews us again, and President Snow's eyes seem to follow us wherever we wander. I point this out to Cato, who nods solemnly and whispers that he'll explain it to me later.

The new Head Game maker, Plutarch Heavensbee comes up to congratulate us again and again and I get the feeling that he's looking for a way to get me to snap. But Lyme seems to like him, so I just continue to smile politely.

* * *

><p>Brutus is not at the apartment when we return (Lyme yawns something about Capitol related business as she trots past us into her room) and so Cato pulls me into his room as soon as her door has shut all the way.<p>

I look at him expectantly, but he looks around then pulls me into the bathroom and flips on the shower. He yanks off his shoes, socks, pants, jacket, and button down shirt, grabs the bathrobe that I left in his bedroom and hops in. I have no idea what this boy is doing, but follow suit and slip out of my sparkly pink dress, pull on the bathrobe, and join him.

The water is shooting away from us and he is looking at the corners between the walls and the ceiling.

"They can't hear us over the water," he explains. I know that he means the Capitol.

"Are they watching us?" I gasp.

"I'm not sure, but better safe than sorry," Cato explains.

"What did Snow want?" I ask him expectantly.

"He visited me right before out Victory Tour. He said that the quarry explosion that killed your father was the warning, Clove. I don't know what he intends to do with us or our families, but he's not happy with us," Cato whispers sadly.

"Then what do we do?" I hiss, angry that he kept me in the dark for this long (though I had my suspicions seeing as quarries rarely use explosives), but glad that he had actually bothered to tell me, in the end, instead of keeping me ignorant and in the dark forever.

"I don't know, Clove," he sighs and I too am at a loss for words.

* * *

><p>I wake up in Cato's arms that afternoon when Lyme appears to tell us to pack up and get ready for the ride home. We'll be traveling all night so that we can reach District Two at around eleven thirty for the Harvest Festival. She makes no comment about find the two of us curled up together, but she sounds gentler when she addresses us.<p>

Cato sneaks into my room when the lights of the Capitol finally disappear from view and after Lyme and Brutus go to their rooms for the night. I notice that he still shakes a lot in his sleep, but I'm not woken by his screams or moans like I was on the previous trip. My nightmares still leave me stiff as a board and in a cold sweat, but it's easier to fall back asleep with Cato's arms wrapped around me.

We step off the train and into the blinding lights of District Two's Justice Square. The Gallows and whipping post that are usually present have been replaced by tables of food or covered by banners with our names on them.

But what catches my eye is Grammy, Julius, and Cato's family. As soon as Mayor Augustus finishes up his speech, Cato and I have rushed off of the stage, through the throngs of people celebrating our shared victory, and to our waiting families.

* * *

><p>That night, as I lay wide awake in my bed, staring at the ceiling, I hear a rustling noise coming from the tall pine tree outside of my second story window. I freeze and, ever so quietly, reach for the knife that I keep on my bed stand. I hear the window behind me creak open and the feet of the intruder thump softly on the plushy, thick carpet. The footsteps approach my bed and I flip over, ready to attack, only to have the knife knocked from my hand.<p>

I quickly lunge for my knife, only for a pair of massive arms to hook around my waist and place me softly back onto the bed again. I look up into Cato's dark blues eyes and I can see that he is trying to cover his slightly frightened expression.

"Christ, Clove!" he whispers. "Could you warn me the next time you're planning to attack?"

"Maybe you could warn _me_ the next time you're planning to sneak in through my bedroom window!" I hiss, embarrassed and enraged.

"So I climb up a freaking lodge pole pine tree and this is what I get?" Cato whispers sarcastically.

"No one asked you to," I retort.

"Yeah, but from the looks of it, you couldn't sleep either," he grins.

"Shut up," I hiss, but he keeps that stupid grin on his face.

"Surely if you're that mad, you would have asked me to leave by now," he grins, moving closer to me.

I feel my cheeks start to heat up and I know that if it was light out, Cato would be able to see my deep blush. But, mercifully, the bedroom is too dark for him to see, and I am able to spew out my nasty retort.

"Well, I'll have to fix that, won't I? Leave, Cato," I say- my voice angry and tired.

Instead of heading for the window, though, he pulls me up off of the bed. I decide that kicking his shins or going for the old boot in the groin, while both are viable options, are too much for a grinning Cato in the middle of the night.

"What if I don't?" he winks at me and I roll my eyes.

"I'll scream, then. Julius will show up in a second and I'm sure that Enobaria is not going to want to miss out on this sort of action," I smile sweetly, expecting the very mention of Enobaria to get him to recoil in fear or disgust, but instead he keeps grinning.

"I happen to know for a fact that Enobaria is still in the Capitol, Clove," he grins.

I sigh, knowing what I have to do.

"Fine, Cato, you can stay just so long as you get back to your house before anyone can notice," I sigh.

I look at him again and I realize just how close he is to me. His arrogant little grin falters for just a brief second before he pulls me into my very first kiss. My breath catches in my throat as I feel his lips on mine and my eyes flutter shut as I begin to lose all sense of the world. His hands grasp my waist and he pulls me closer. I move mine from where they were resting on his chest up to circle around his neck as one of his moves to my face and cups my cheek, rubbing circles into my skin.

The need for air seems to register with both of us at around the same time, and we slowly break apart, though his hands stay on my cheek and waist, while mine slide down to grip the front of his shirt. I feel dizzy, so I keep my eyes shut.

"May I take you out tomorrow, Clove?" he whispers.

"Correct grammar and everything, Cato? How on earth could I resist," I whisper back as I open my eyes only to become completely entranced by his again.

* * *

><p><strong>Part three will (once again) be up in about a week.<strong>

**Please review :) and may your love life be far happier than the USS Clato's **


	3. Chapter 3

"Did I change a lot when we were in the Games?" Cato asks when I quickly shut off the television and rush outside to the grassy meadow between Victor's Village and the next village over, Glenwood. The Games that the Capitol was about to re air were our own, and I am not prepared for that. I don't think I'll ever be prepared to watch a recap of our Games again.

"It's hard to say, Cato. I never really knew you before the Games so I don't have much to judge on," I answer carefully. The truth is, though, I do have a bit to go on. Cato was popular at the Training Center and probably at school, too. I might have gone to school in my village while he went to school here, in town, but it's not hard to guess. I saw all of the friends reaching out, trying to shake his hand or pat his back, after we got home. If Cato was popular he was probably likeable, too. In the arena he wasn't all that likeable. Instead, he was a killing machine.

"I watched the recap and it didn't even seem like me, you know," he says.

"It's to be expected, Cato. We _all_ had to become survivalists in there and it's bound to change anyone into something that shocks them. I mean, when most people watch the recap with Cesar, they just look shocked by it," I try to be comforting, but it's never been my strong point.

"I just can't help but feel like I lost every little piece of myself to the Games and to the Capitol, Clove. I feel like I just became some senseless, killing pawn of theirs while I was in there," Cato sighs.

"Not at the Feast, Cato," I whisper.

"Yeah, but I only did that because I thought that you were too pretty to have your face smashed in by a rock," he confesses. I'm shocked.

"What?" is the only thing that I can manage to splutter.

"That was my reasoning at the time, Clove," Cato grins. "I've never been like Lover Boy with my 'feelings' and shit. I was running to save you and when I Thresh with the rock all I could think about was how he was going to ruin your face."

"Yeah, but then after that…" I begin.

"I realized how I really felt. I saw that rock hit you, Clove, and I thought I was going to lose you. I realized that I couldn't bear that thought," Cato explains and he grabs my hand. I, out of habit, wrench it away.

"Sorry, it's a bad habit of mine," I mumble.

"Maybe that could be your new talent: personalized rejection of affection," Cato groans, but I can hear the joking tone behind his voice.

"I just can't think of anything, Cato! I asked Lyme, but hers is teaching, of all things, so that helps me out exactly _none_, seeing as I can't stand any of the people at the Center. Brutus's is making wood carvings, and God knows that Enobaria's is probably something crazy and morbid that goes with having _fangs_…" I ramble.

"Maybe it's drinking the blood of failing career trainees," Cato offers.

"Shut up, you're absolutely no help! Besides, you're absolutely terrified of her and you probably don't have a 'new talent' either," I argue.

"I do so have a new talent! Do you want to know what it is?" Cato asks, grinning from ear to ear.

"What?" I try my best to sound flirty, but I probably fail at it.

Before I know it, I'm on my back and Cato is lazily strewn across me, his arms propping him up on either side of my body. He wiggles his eye brows suggestively as his bemused grin widens, almost stretching all the way across his face.

"This," he says, and he's kissing me.

By the time he's moved his kissing from my lips and face down to my neck with big, animated smacking sounds, I can't help it anymore. I let out a little, light, flirty giggle that was hiding inside of me and stops Cato right in his tracks.

"Did you seriously just giggle, Clove?" Cato asks, surprised.

"I'm as surprised as you are, Cato," I admit as I continue to laugh and giggle a little.

"You're starting to sound like Glimmer," he laughs.

I stop laughing as my breath catches in my throat. I try to stay calm and relaxed and the same as I was, but the damage has been done. Cato's mentioned not only the very Hunger Games that I was running for a few minutes ago, but also the name of our annoying, but rather harmless ally.

"Look, Clove, I'm so sorry! I- it just slipped out. I didn't mean to upset you," he whispers frantically.

"I- I'm going to Lyme's now, I think," I murmur as I push him off of me, get up, and race back towards Victor's Village as quickly as I can. Cato continues sitting in the field, all alone, disappointed in how an initially typical afternoon has turned into an almost breakdown moment for me.

* * *

><p>"Clove, this is for both you and also for Cato. If- no, I mean <em>when<em>- President Snow asks you to design weapons or run a training center or publicly endorse the Hunger Games…" Lyme begins after I finish cleaning off the practice dummies that she is planning to take to the Center later in the week.

"Don't worry, I'll say no," I finish for Lyme. It's almost dinner time and Julius is planning to make something special tonight because Grammy turns sixty tomorrow.

"Clove, please do me a favor and just say yes," Lyme whispers desperately.

Something clicks and I put together Lyme's empty house, her frequent visits to the Capitol, Penelope and Oliver's (two other victors) constant visits to the Capitol, how Brutus always seemed to be disappearing on the Victory Tour, and the way that Enobaria was always sneaking back into the apartments late at night while the preparation for the Games or the Victory Tour was happening.

"You're not serious, are you? He doesn't really- I mean…" I shudder because even the mere thought of what Snow has been doing to the Victors make me sick.

"So just say yes, Clove. And make sure that Cato does, too, if Snow even gives him the choice" Lyme whispers sadly. For the first time, I can see the emptiness in her dark hazel eyes and I know that what she's telling me is the truth.

"Will he give me a choice?" I ask cautiously, nervous for the answer.

"I don't know. He usually does give a choice when the Victor isn't too rebellious or popular and, well, District Twelve was supposed to win last year…" she trails off.

"But because Cato and I didn't kill each other like the Game makers had intended, he might not give us an option," I finish.

"I'm amazed that you didn't come home from you Victory Tour to an empty house, like Haymitch Abernathy did," Lyme says and I gaze at her curiously.

"What do you mean? Did he refuse President Snow on both offers?" I ask.

"I'm not sure, but he was the example that Snow convinced me with. He's the one President Snow holds up to Victors like Finnick or Cashmere or Johanna. It's Snow's way of making sure that he either gets the support he needs financially or through an endorsement of a Victor," Lyme explains.

"How long do you think Cato and I will have as a grace period?" I ask her.

"Less than a year. I'm surprised that he didn't ask you while you two were on the Victory Tour, although that might be because you weren't sixteen yet," Lyme sighs.

"Before Snow started… well, you know. Did you ever… I just mean… um," I can't seem to formulate my sentences correctly, but who could blame me? I just found out that I'm going to be 'working Colfax' until something better wins the Games.

"Yeah, but it doesn't really help all that much, looking back. If I'd had someone like Cato, though, it might have helped a little bit more, but even then, the whole ordeal is absolutely terrible, Clove. If he gives you a choice, please, Clove, just take it. No one will blame you if you do. In fact, that's what most of us would have done if we could," Lyme explains.

"I- I don't even know what to say, Lyme. I'm so confused," I whisper.

"It's okay, Clove. I just thought that I would warn you ahead of time instead of throwing you to the wolves like Brutus did when I won or like Penelope did to Enobaria. You know what they say: Ignorance is bliss, but knowledge is power," Lyme sighs.

I nod slowly, still trying to comprehend Cato's- as well as my own- fate.

* * *

><p>We're in the kitchen and Cato's arms are wrapped around my waist as he kisses my neck from behind. Julius and Grammy are both out, so this is pretty standard Cato behavior: sneak over and kiss me as many times as possible before either Julius or I draw the line.<p>

"Cato, stop," I mumble, "I have to talk to you about something serious."

"No thank you, Clove." He murmurs as his lips reattach themselves to my neck.

"Cato, I'm serious," I hiss, trying in a vain attempt to move out of his embrace, but he quickly pulls me back in (not that I resist all that much).

"And I am too. I'm not letting you get away from me, Clove," he chuckles a bit as I roll my eyes, but he quickly starts in on kissing me even more than before. It's not really the best time for this, but Cato doesn't see that.

"Can you keep it in your pants for just one minute and let me talk to you?" I snap, glaring at him as best I can.

"Geeze, Clove, take a pill, you sound like my mom," Cato sighs as he untangles himself from the knot he had formed around me. I roll my eyes again, though his comment stings. He could have any girl that he wants and he chose me. I will never understand this boy.

"I talked to Lyme today…" I start, but I quickly trail off, unsure of how or even what to tell him.

"Yeah, I assumed so, Clove," Cato rolls his eyes as he replies. He must see my look of confusion because he looks a bit annoyed when he continues. "You shouted it at me when you ran away," he explains, trying to be patient or nice or something to cover it up, but I feel the sharpness of the venom behind it anyways.

"I'm sorry," I start.

"Don't be. It's not my fault that all you do is just stand around and stare at the wall," Cato spits. I'm surprised and hurt by this new development.

"Where is this coming from, Cato?" I manage to ask through my complete and utter bewilderment. He just storms out of the house, though, slamming the door behind him. I collapse into a chair, both puzzled and hurt by the day's events.

* * *

><p>A hand covering my mouth wakes me from my nightmare (another one that I cannot manage to remember). I immediately chomp down as hard as I can manage. I hear a familiar hiss of pain as the intruder crushes me to him and starts moving towards the window. I struggle a bit, but I'm almost positive I know who it is, so I take it easy.<p>

"Cato, what are we doing?" I hiss as he carries me down the pine tree outside of my window.

"Just shut up, will you?" he hisses and soon enough we're concealed in the woods.

"Cato, I need to talk to you," I say when we finally stop.

"Same here, Clove. I'll go first," he decides. I nod, deciding that, given the circumstances, he should get the floor first. After all, he practically kidnapped me tonight and he should apologize for blowing up at me for absolutely no reason earlier today.

"I have an ultimatum, Clove. I have until the next Games are over, Clove, and then I'm fair game for Snow to sell out to whomever he wants," the words barely register with me. I thought that we would have at least a little bit more time. Cato must take my silence as confusion, though, because he says "I know, you probably don't get it, but-"

"No, Cato, I do get it. that's what I wanted to talk to you about earlier. That's what Lyme and I were talking about today," I whisper.

"That's why I was mad, Clove. I- I just didn't know what to do. I still don't," he sighs as he collapses on the ground. I kneel next to him.

"It's okay, Cato," I whisper gently as I wrap my arms around him. "We'll figure something out. We have to figure something out. I promise that we will."

Cato turns abruptly and kisses me fully on the mouth. I squeak in surprise because its intensity, but I soon begin to kiss him back. I can feel his hands gripping my waist, pulling me to him, and my lungs scream for air. I break away gasping for breath.

"I love you, Clove," I hear Cato whisper, as he presses his lips to mine again with the same amount of hungry intensity as before. Something inside of me wants to stop, but in the end, I give up and just let myself melt into him.

* * *

><p>I sit on Cato's lap as we watch special recap of the two previous Quarter Quells that are shown just before President Snow announces the newest twist in Quarter Quell to all of Panem. Haymitch Abernathy's ally, a blonde girl, has just died. I can feel Cato gripping me tighter and I know that he's thinking about how that could have been- no, was supposed to be- us. I lean into him more than I am already doing.<p>

"I love you, Clove," Cato whispers into my ear and I shiver as his breath tickles my cheek and neck.

"Me too, Cato," I whisper back.

Before I realize what's going on, Cato has flipped me onto my back and is smirking in his trade mark fashion.

"Who? You or me?" he grins.

"Well me, obviously," I joke. He looks a little confused until I laugh.

"Did you seriously think that I meant me, Cato?" I ask, laughing.

"You never know, Clove! Especially with you," he defends. I am about to make my smart reply, but the show catches my attention.

"And now, ladies and gentlemen, here is the moment that you have all been waiting for! The announcement of this year's Quarter Quell!"

Cato and I both sit up straight, though Cato's arms are still wrapped around me.

"It'll be okay, Clove. I think that Oliver and Enobaria are planning to mentor this year, so we're off the hook for now," he whispers.

"Not you, Cato. You still have to go," I reply sadly.

"I will always be yours, Clove," he whispers. "I will always come home to you. Not to anyone else but you."

"Or your mother," I grin, knowing the he soft spot that he has for his mom.

"Shut up," he laughs.

"I believe that's my line seeing as Snow is getting on screen," I point out. We both become completely transfixed by the screen.

"Fifty years ago, each District voted for their tributes as a reminder that the rebels had put themselves into this situation and that it was their own fault that their children were being sent to the Games. Twenty five years ago, each District sent in twice as many tributes as before to remind them that for every Capitol citizen who died in the rebellion, two rebels were killed."

President Snow pauses briefly to let the message sink in. I just want for this to be over already.

"This year for the third Quarter Quell, each District shall reap two victors to compete for glory in the Hunger Games for a second time. Districts that cannot produce the required number of victors will reap their tributes from past victor's remaining relatives," President Snow grins and I know that 's directed at us, but I don't care.

The world is swimming around me as I race for the door. I need fresh air. I head for the woods.

I can hear Cato following me and the cries of out rage coming from the other victors who were watching the announcement of the Quarter Quell. Enobaria throws something out of a window. Penelope's door is slamming loudly behind me. I can even hear that Oliver's kids are shouting ad crying as he tries to calm them down.

"Clove, please stop," Cato calls softly when I reach the woods.

"What are we going to do, Cato? Don't tell me that everything is going to be alright now. You don't honestly think that I'm that stupid, do you?" I challenge. For the first time since I've met him, Cato falls silent. He can't even pretend anymore.

* * *

><p>I tug at the collar of my red reaping dress. It's the same one that I've worn since I was twelve and it's finally starting to get tight on me. The first year I wore it, it felt like a tent, but now it feels too tight and hot and stuffy. It's a tradition, though, of sorts. I've always worn it to my reapings and I don't plan on stopping now just because it's a little tight around the bust and waist.<p>

Enobaria is currently mounting the stage. I couldn't believe that I wasn't reaped for a second time, but I guess that maybe the Quarter Quell _wasn't_ designed to punish Cato and me for our actions during the previous Hunger Games. My breath still catches in my throat as Gaius struts towards the glass bowl containing the names of the male victors.

"Cato Peters" Gaius reads. My heart nearly stops. I should have known that me not getting picked was too good to be true. I look around the small group of male victors, but none step forward to volunteer, not even Brutus who had seemed excited at the aspect of being able to fight in the Games for a second time. I can see the white sling on his arm but I still thought that he would go back in for the glory and the gore, too.

Cato shakes hands with Enobaria and the bile rises in my throat because I know that no amount of begging or pleading will ever convince Enobaria to sacrifice so that Cato can win and come back to me and his family.

The ceremony finishes in a blur and Cato's mom nods when I reach the Justice building, motioning for me to be the first one to see him. The Peacekeepers part when I reach the door.

"Ten minutes," the one grunts. I nod and enter the room.

"Clove," Cato whispers into my hair. I have barely stepped into the room and his arms are already around me.

I know that I should tell him. I know that I should but I had been planning to tell him after the reaping, if we were both spared or die with this secret if we were both reaped or if I was the only one that was reaped. I had never expected for him to go and for me to be spared. I was almost positive that Brutus was planning to volunteer, but I guess that our luck had run out. And mine was about to as well.

"What is it, Clove?" Cato asks.

"What?" I reply, hoping to avoid the subject altogether.

"Clove, tell me what it is. You've been too quiet," Cato says.

"There's nothing to tell," I lie, but I can feel the tears starting to rise behind my eyes.

"Please just tell me, Clove. We may never have another chance," Cato begs. I shake my head.

"I can't, I can't, I really can't. You don't even know, Cato. I just can't tell you and it'll just put you off of your game, and who am I even kidding. Even if you do come back, this is going to be the world's most messed up kid because we're too young and the Games are too horrible," I ramble.

"What?" Cato gasps. I realize what I've just said and clap my hands over my mouth.

"Please don't be mad, Cato," I whisper.

"So it's true, then? You're pregnant?" he asks, his voice strangely calm.

"Do I need to clarify that you're that father?" I ask.

"I didn't think that the identity of the father would be some big mystery to you, Clove," Cato murmurs.

"Oh, no, it's not! I just thought that since you're acting so strangely that you might be worried about that," I say.

"Well, how did you expect me to react? We're you even planning to tell me?" Cato glares at me as he says this, and guilt overwhelms me.

"I- I wasn't expecting for things to be like this. I thought that Brutus would volunteer. I didn't think that you'd be going, Cato. If we both stayed out, then yes, I was planning to tell you. But- but I couldn't let you know that I was pregnant, not if we were going into the arena again," I admit.

"I'm coming back, Clove," Cato declares.

"What?" I gasp, confused at his words.

"I am coming back, Clove. And then I'm marrying you," he repeats.

"But what about Snow, the Capitol?" I ask.

"And what about the kid, Clove? He's not going to grow up a bastard or without a proper father. Not like with me, Clove," Cato says again, but with something more than just force behind it- I can hear the pain in his voice when he mentions his father, or, rather, lack thereof.

"How am I supposed to tell your mother, Cato? Or Julius? Or- or Grammy?" I shudder at the very thought of telling Grammy that I'm sixteen and a half and knocked up. She'll flip. And then, if Cato lives through the Quell, Julius will kill him for this.

"I'll tell them. Send in my mom first, then Julius and your Grammy. I'll tell them for you, Clove. They can't get too mad at me, I'm about to go back into the Hunger Games, after all," Cato says.

"Please come home," I whisper as I wrap my arms around him.

"I will. I promise," Cato says as he kisses my forehead.

* * *

><p>Mrs. Peters walks out of the room looking shaky and I can't say that I blame her. She approaches Julius and Grammy first and tells them that Cato wants to see them before he goes. Then she heads for me. I feel sick as she approaches, but, thankfully, she doesn't look mad.<p>

"It would be easier for me to yell at you if I hadn't been in the same situation," she admits. "At least Cato is a good man, Clove. He'll take good care of you if he gets back. His no good, sorry excuse of a father, on the other hand…" her face turns stony. I put my hand on her arm. She doesn't need to explain it to me. I already know.

"I was planning to tell you all after the reapings if we weren't drawn," I say.

Just then, Julius comes storming out of the room. He looks beyond angry; he is literally seething. I am amazed that smoke is not billowing out of his ears. Grammy hobbles out behind him. Grammy doesn't look too pleased either, but when she sees me she just sighs and murmurs something about how I'm just like my mother: getting pregnant young and out of wedlock.

"I'm sorry, Grammy," I whisper. Julius has stormed off by now.

"If he gets back, I expect you to marry that boy," Grammy says and with that, we are off.

* * *

><p>The arena explodes into a blaze of lights as Cato, Beetee, and Chaff fight off Cashmere, Gloss, and Enobaria. Finnick comes running through the rain carrying Mags and dragging Johanna. The screen immediately goes black.<p>

I race to Lyme's house as quickly as I can, but she is already outside.

"There's a safe house for us. The Capitol and the Peacekeepers will be here any second, Clove. We have to get out of here now," she says and we take off running into the woods.

"What happened, Lyme?" I gasp.

"Oliver, Beetee, and Haymitch as well as a few others came up with a plan to break the victors out of the arena. We're going to start a rebellion, Clove, with the help of District Thirteen," Lyme explains as we continue racing through the piney forest.

"Why were Cato and Finnick and Johanna there, too? Why-" I start to ask.

"On the Victory Tour I told them that I was planning to tell you two about the rebellion. Oliver knew that as well, so he would have told them to become allies in the Games," Lyme pants.

I peer past her and I can see the outline of the so called "safe house". It's a dilapidated old shack that was probably built back before the dark days. But it's probably better than being in District Two or the arena right now.

"How do we know who got out and who didn't?" I ask.

"Plutarch is supposed to be picking us up at any moment, but I have this strange feeling that he might be occupied with other things," a voice to my left says. It's Penelope and Marcus.

"He's not here?" Lyme asks.

"Apparently things didn't go completely according to plan, Lyme," Marcus says.

* * *

><p>The rebels come to us in packs of tens and twenties. They are the quarry laborers, the factory workers, the miners that risk their lives for the Capitol's pleasure. A few merchants and foremen appear here and there, but the majority of them are the laborers- the proles. I don't think that any of us knew how many there were. We would have started a long time ago if we did.<p>

Every day I search for my family or for Cato's family and I never see them. I don't know if they're trying to wait out the war in the safety of Victor's Village or if they've been killed or are siding with the Capitol, but I can never find them.

Lyme and I make battle plans together. Soon we have taken every one of the outer villages- some more easily than others. Glenwood, Leadville, and Silverton join us easily. Idaho and Copper take a little longer to fall. But, eventually, only Justice Green, the main village in District Two- home to the Green Peak and the Justice building- remains in control of the Capitol. It's been a month and a half since the Quarter Quell ended as abruptly as it did and Lyme and I have still heard nothing on the status of Cato, Finnick, Mags, or the rest of the tributes.

"Clove! Clove Silvers!" it's Oliver's voice that I hear.

"Oliver? Is that you?" I gasp.

We embrace each other tightly as Lyme comes racing from her tent.

"Oliver? What are you doing here?" she asks.

"Plutarch finally got a hovercraft to take us home. We're just waiting for the Capitol and the Green Peak to be taken now, Lyme. We'll be needed there, though, soon. There's a craft here to take the remaining victors from each District back to Thirteen before it's too late." Oliver explains.

"Who else is still alive?" I ask.

"Just you two, me, Cato, and Enobaria from District Two, although Enobaria is still in the custody of the Capitol. Beetee is still with us as are Finnick, Mags, and Annie. Johanna just yelled at me about morphling withdrawal. Chaff is still refusing to replace his arm and Haymitch is as drunk as ever. Blight keeps on disappearing so I don't know if he counts either, like Enobaria," Oliver explains.

"What about Penelope and Marcus?" I ask.

"Dead in an explosion," Oliver tells us.

"Is there anyone else?" Lyme asks, clearly astounded at the death toll of the victors.

"Not that we know of," Oliver grimaces.

* * *

><p>"You'll be going to compartment twelve- twenty two, Clove. Your schedule will be printed on your arm every morning and you will be expected to follow it to the minute," Boggs explains to me as he escorts me to room 1222.<p>

"Yeah, well, I'm not planning on staying for too long, so that shouldn't be a problem," I reply nonchalantly. Boggs does not look amused.

"Just follow the schedule, Ms. Silvers. Please? We've already been having enough trouble with the other victors," he sighs. "Here you are. This is your key- don't lose it, Coin is very fussy about these things- and we expect you at the eight thirty meeting tomorrow morning to discuss the execution of President Snow that will be taking place in a week," Boggs turns to leave before I can ask any questions, so I open the door and step inside.

"Clove?" a voice gasps. I freeze as the door shuts behind me. He looks thinner and grayer than the last time that I saw him. His hair is unkempt and longer than usual. But his icy blue eyes are still the exact same.

"Oh, Cato," I whisper and we fall into each other's arm crying like fools.

"Is he alright? The baby?" he asks quietly after we collapse on the floor, wrapped in each other's arms.

"I- I think so. Lyme had me stay out of the fighting," I explain.

His hand comes to gently rest on my stomach, which is just barely beginning to show even though I'm almost three months along. Maybe it has something to do with stress or always running around trying to be productive. But the kid (or Fido, as Lyme had dubbed him/her) seems to be just fine, so far as I could tell. I was more worried about Cato, to be honest. But now that we had each other, we weren't letting go any time soon.

* * *

><p><strong>Well, there you have it. A three shot by yours truly. I hope that you enjoyed it.<strong>

**For those of you who enjoy my writing and wish to read more, I have a Gale/Madge story that will be updated next weekend and a Cashmere one-shot that you should all check out. There's also a bunch of stuff that'll never be finished that you can look at too. **

**Review and don't forget to check out some of my other stories if you liked this one!**


End file.
